The Charge

Is this the end of Rico?

Opening Statement

Edward G. Robinson defined the gangster genre and became a star in this
trend-setting 1930 gem from Warner Bros.

Facts of the Case

Petty hoodlum Cesare Enrico Bandello (Robinson) vows to take over a Chicago
mob by killing anyone in his path. With attitude and aggression that belies his
small stature, "Rico" defies his mafia bosses, murders the Chicago
crime commissioner during a New Year's Eve ball, and double-crosses any
associate foolish enough to question his grab for power.

Rico barks and snarls his way to the top, snapping off invective with the
staccato clip of a Tommy gun. The role launched Robinson into superstardom just
as he was typecast for years as a pugnacious gangster and ornery little SOB. His
performance as Rico has been imitated and parodied so often that it can be hard
to understand what a breakthrough role this was for the Romanian-born Robinson.
He raises the performance almost to the level of Greek tragedy, as Rico kills
and connives inexorably to his destiny. Little Caesar may be Robinson's
best-known work, followed by no-nonsense insurance investigator Barton Keyes in
Billy Wilder's classic noir, Double
Indemnity. A quiet collector of art, Robinson always seemed bemused in
interviews that his fortune came from playing vicious thugs in the movies.

Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. costars as Joe Massara, Rico's longtime associate who
is trying desperately to go straight. Despite sharing his famous father's name,
Fairbanks commands minimal screen time and displays little of the charisma he
would bring to later projects like Gunga Din.
We learn on the commentary track that Clark Gable was originally considered for
the part of Joe. Though it seems unlikely that an established star like Gable
would have wanted such a small role, the benefit of hindsight suggests he might
have stolen the film—taking the focus off Robinson's menacing, mesmerizing
performance.

The Evidence

Adapted from a novel by W.R. Burnett, the innovative screenplay by Francis
Edwards Faragoh unfolds from the perspective of the gangsters who populate the
plot. Francis Ford Coppola and Mario Puzo would take a similar approach 40 years
later in their script for The
Godfather. Indeed, one of the assassinations during the famous Baptism
massacre that climaxes Coppola's masterpiece is an obvious homage to a virtually
identical murder in Little Caesar.

In both films, the effect immerses viewers in the underworld, as we are
forced to identify with the killers and thieves who inhabit this substratum of
society. This must have been a vicarious thrill for Depression-era audiences
stricken by poverty. For the price of a movie ticket, they could watch the
diminutive Rico "Little Caesar" Bandello rob and kill in order to rise
above his station, yet be safe in the knowledge that comeuppance would be
waiting in the final reel. During the 1930s and well into the '40s, Warner Bros.
specialized in these social commentaries thinly disguised as pulp fiction. In a
time of hopelessness and despair, the characters in Little Caesar define
their self-worth in terms of wealth and influence—both fleeting in a world
of duplicity and sudden death.

The camera captures Rico's observant nature as he gazes in envy at a mob
leader's jeweled cravat, diamond pinky ring, and stock of fine cigars. He
visibly twitches at the sight of bundled cash piled high on a gangster's desk.
Rico salivates at the thought of wealth, but a lust for power is his real
obsession.

Setting becomes another character in Little Caesar, as we gain
entrance to places with florid names like The Bronze Peacock and The Palermo
Club, where schemes take life and a man's fate might literally be sealed in
cement.

So pervasive was the impact of this violent movie that the federal
Racketeering Influenced Corrupt Organizations Act of 1970—or
RICO—probably owes its acronym to Robinson's character.

Warner Bros. includes a generous package of extras on this disc, which is
part of the studio's gangster collection now available as individual titles or
in a boxed set. Added content includes "Warner Night at the Movies
1930," hosted by Leonard Maltin, featuring a trailer for Five Star
Final starring Robinson, a newsreel, a short film starring a young Spencer
Tracy, a cartoon, and the feature attraction. Each program can be played in
succession or individually. Warner Bros. includes the original theatrical
trailer as well as a curious foreword that accompanied the 1954 re-release.
Rounding out the extra features, University of Southern California film
historian Richard Jewell supplies an insightful commentary track, and a
16-minute feature chronicles the cinematic evolution of the antihero.

The Rebuttal Witnesses

Like most films of its day, Little Caesar reflects the awkward
transition from the era of silents to the new age of talkies. While director
Mervyn LeRoy shows a remarkable facility for voiceover and layered dialogue, the
technical limitations of early sound recording required the camera to be bolted
down during dialogue-intensive scenes. Cinematically, the results are often
static, though compensated by Robinson's electrifying performance. LeRoy also
relies on intertitles like the old silent films to confer information quickly
and convey the passage of time.

Little Caesar would also benefit from a musical score to offset
lengthy silent passages. Audio is presented in the original mono.

The film transfer suffers for lack of adequate restoration, as 75 years of
accumulated scratches mar the print for much of its 78-minute running time.
Still, Warner Bros. is commended for keeping the film alive and commercially
available in an affordable edition. A multimillion-dollar restoration might push
the retail price of the DVD beyond the interest of some collectors.

Closing Statement

A gangster classic, Little Caesar became a virtual blueprint for the
genre. The film's influence and Robinson's star-making performance transcend
time, becoming manifest in pictures as different in tone and texture as The Godfather, Miller's Crossing, Goodfellas, and even Reservoir Dogs.

The Verdict

For sheer cockiness alone, Rico would be free to go if he could get up and
walk away. Warner Bros. receives praise for releasing a decent, if not
spectacular, print of a classic film with a handsome package of extras in a
proper keep case.